


Long Time No See

by endlessnightlock (Endlessnightlock)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Drinking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Past Gale Hawthorne/Katniss Everdeen - Freeform, mention of a drunk driving accident resulting in the loss of a limb, mention of amputation, really it's just a mention that it's happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnightlock/pseuds/endlessnightlock
Summary: Peeta finds Katniss on one of the worst days of her life. Will he stay after the way she hurt him in the past?
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 31
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just cross-posting this two-part drabble from Tumblr because I was happy with the way it turned out. I made a few edits once I realized parts one and two contradicted themselves! (that's what I get for posting to Tumblr in a hurry I suppose)

"Katniss?"

I peer up from my seat on the curb to look at the man who stopped to speak to me despite my ragged appearance. I've been sitting here for a while with my eyes closed, so I find myself squinting at him a little as my eyes adjust to the light. The sun is setting behind him, but his body is blocking the brightest portion of the light. Still, enough escapes, I'm forced to shade my eyes with my hand. Once my vision adapts, I look at his familiar face. I'd recognize him anywhere, although I haven't run into him in years and years now. And oh god, what a horrible time for him to see me. "Hi Peeta," I respond, my words slurred.

I try focusing on him, but the combination of the lethargy brought on from the strain of the day in addition to the excessive amount of alcohol coursing through my veins, it's difficult to do. Despite my foggy brain, I know that he is studying me intently. I'm not too fond of that, so I glance away from him.

My eyes stray across the street to the park, where a handful of children are still out playing. It's later than usual, but tonight is one of those last evenings of summer, and they are probably out milking those final bits of freedom before school starts again in a few days. Many times when I've been low, I've come out here and watched the world that exists outside of the small apartment I share- or shared, past tense now, I suppose- with Gale, reminding myself that happiness exists not that far away from the confines of my life.

Peeta is silent, probably considering his words before speaking. He never could be rushed.

"Can I sit down?" he asks, finally.

"It's a free country, or so they say. For some of us, at least." I pat the curb next to me, too strung out to care much either way. Peeta knows what I am, the way I'm capable of treating people. If he chooses to stay, that's on him.

He lowers himself to sit beside me on the curb. It takes a little longer for him to get down due to the prosthetic leg hidden beneath his pants, I'm sure. Peeta lost his leg just above the knee in a car accident the summer of our sophomore year; a drunk driver hit him. "How are you?" he asks, once settled.

I wish I were better at pretending to be alright; I probably wouldn't be in the current mess I'm in right now if I were a better actress. "Wonderful, fantastic even," I say bitterly.

Peeta stares at me for a moment before glancing away again. He snorts, and for some reason, I like the sound. He never was anything but truthful with me. "Katniss, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I've got to say it- you look like absolute shit. You've been drinking tonight, haven't you?"

I can't look at him and admit my failures. "A little," I say, directing my gaze over his shoulder.

"Why?"

I look at his kind blue eyes staring back at me with more grace than I deserve from him. And oh god, that hurts. Why does he have to be so forgiving? The two of us were good friends when we were young, and there'd always been the possibility, exciting and seemingly dangerous back then, of more than friendship waiting in the wings with Peeta if I'd wanted it. I hadn't been ready for more from him then, but someday, I just _knew_ it would happen. There'd never been anyone for me but Peeta. But then he had his accident, and I pulled away. I hardly spoke to him after.

Looking back with the addition of maturing and the passage of time, I recognized the colossal fuck-up of my actions. After some much-needed self-reflection, I chalked it up to my fear of losing Peeta permanently. Which, _haha, the joke was on me_ \- I lost him anyway. So how dare he show up on one of the worst days of my life, speaking to me like he's forgiven me? I don't deserve it, not after what I did to him.

"Gale and I are getting a divorce. He moved out today," I say abruptly, rubbing the heels of my hands against my eyes because they're gritty. Just like that, the truth is out- Peeta is the first person I've said the words to- Gale and I are getting a divorce.

The phrase has an absolute finality to it. I haven't called my mother or my sister yet; neither of them has any idea what's been going on because I didn't want them to have to deal with more shit from me. But now it's here, and I suppose I'm going to have to fill them in. Soon.

"What happened?" Peeta asks, interrupting my wandering thoughts.

What did happen? It was more like what didn't happen. "We stopped, we just stopped liking each other, I guess. We couldn't get along anymore, and Gale was never around. He came home and told me that he'd met someone else and wants to be with her. He wants out. And I want out. So we're ending it."

"No kidding."

"Things have been bad for a long time. We should never have been together. We just shouldn't have," I explain disjointedly. Gale was the one who was supposed to have been the easy choice, my failsafe. But all we'd managed to do over two years of dating and five years of marriage was make each other more miserable each passing year.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says quietly.

"I'm not. Not really. It's just that Gale moved out today, and it's been a bad day. So I started drinking; I wish I hadn't," I tell him. To my horror, a hiccuping sob escapes from my throat and tears well up in my eyes. I can't believe I'm confessing all of this to Peeta, not after the way I shut him out of my life. Why is he still here? He should've just kept walking when he saw me sitting here alone. "It was supposed to make me feel better, but now I just feel small and sad and lonely," I admit through trembling lips. 

A shuddering feeling begins in my chest and spreads outward through the rest of my body. I feel like the dam of my self-control is breaking. _Oh god, now I'm really losing it in front of him._

"Do you want me to stay here with you awhile?" Peeta asks, his voice quiet and soothing.

Did he offer to stay and comfort me? I close my eyes because I can't look at him. "You don't have to," I manage, "I don't deserve it." Peeta scoots closer to me and puts both of his arms around my body, without another word, and pulls me close against his chest. "I don't, I don't," I mutter.

"Shh, it's alright, Katniss," he says, beginning to rock me like a child as he continues speaking. "It's going to be alright. You're strong. You'll get through this."

"I'm not."

"Shh, breathe, okay. I think you're panicking a little. It's alright. Katniss, it's alright. I'll stay with you for a while, okay? As long as you need me, there's nowhere I need to be."

I don't deserve him; I don't deserve this. But I will take it. I close my eyes and breathe as Peeta told me to do.

I want him to stay forever.

* * *

  
  


During the last few weeks, even with everything that happened with Gale, I remained stoic. I didn't cry when he told me he wanted out, and I didn't cry when he finished packing his things this morning. I didn't cry when he handed me the key to what used to be our apartment as he left. I didn't even cry when I watched him drive off for the last time; I stood behind the living room curtain, dry-eyed, watching his taillights disappear. But now, Peeta is holding me, and I can't seem to stop crying. 

"Katniss," he says to me eventually, his voice stirring me out of my stupor.

I have no idea how long we've been sitting on the curb, but I'm sure it's been long enough. The sun is starting to set, but I have no reckoning of when I came out here in the first place- so that doesn't help me get my bearings. I came outside to sit and think, and look at the world around me feeling depressed and alone; why would it have mattered what time it was? But I'm not alone, at least not for now. Peeta found me and stayed with me, holding me.

My tears are finally drying up, leaving my eyes beyond sore. My eyelids seem scrubbed with sandpaper. Inside my head is a ferocious pounding- like there's a sledgehammer inside my brain and smashing it's way out. I'm not sure what to do now because my emotional breakdown left me weak- it feels like I've lost all concept of time and reality. Nothing that's happened today resembles what the last ten years of my life have been. It's like everything I know has suddenly been tipped upside down, shaken out, and then put back together in a way I can't understand. 

Gale- he left me. Gale, who swore he could make me happy, love me forever, is gone. I can admit to myself that his leaving was for the best. But damn, that doesn't mean it hurts any less. Suppose we'd only known how it would end. Would we have stayed friends instead of trying for more?

"It's getting late," Peeta says, speaking up again, "you'd better go inside now, don't you think?"

He is saying that I need to get up and move, so I must. What else is there to say? But Peeta's arms are a shelter, and his body is a fortress tonight, and the simple act of holding me is devastating. It's appalling how badly I want his affection and presence because I have no right to ask for it, I have no right to keep him here. I should probably back away now to repair that boundary between us before, but I can't. Peeta offered himself while I was at my lowest, and now I can't let him go. He probably has no idea what he's done.

Consciously, I know I should give him some space; my body is traitorous, though, and I cling to him tighter instead. It's been so long since I was with someone who made me feel safe enough to let go of some of the pain I've been holding onto for too long. I can't release him yet. "It's getting late," he says, his voice a gentle reminder of what I already know.

I shake my head as a toddler would, and I hear him sigh. He pulls away finally, and I release my arms because I have too, all the while avoiding his eyes. I can only imagine what he sees right now. I feel like a nightmare, and I'm sure I look like one.

"Let's get you back inside, okay," Peeta tells me gently, "I can come up with you if you want me too- If you don't want to be alone yet." His voice is hesitant- he's handling me so delicately right now. He must be afraid I'll shatter if he doesn't; I think he's right.

My chin quivers when I try to speak, so I bite my lip to stop the muscle spasm. Instead of answering, I dip my head in a quick nod of assent.

"Okay then," Peeta says.

"My place is right there," I say, pointing behind me. I'm not sure if it's welcome or appropriate, but ultimately I find I'm too tired to care, so I take Peeta's hand and lead him to my apartment. 

* * *

  
  
  


I unlock the door, and Peeta follows me inside. He shuts it quietly behind us, and wordlessly I walk to the couch after kicking off my shoes. I slump down and tuck my legs up underneath me and lay my head on the pillow. Gale hasn't slept here for weeks, and once I found out he'd been with someone else, I couldn't go back to the bed we'd shared. Instead, I've spent my nights out here with the television on; the volume turned down low to keep the thoughts in my head from driving me crazy at night. 

Now that Gale's gone for good, I don't know what I'll do. I'm exhausted. Tonight I might finally sleep some, I hope. If I'd hit the tequila a little less this evening, I'd probably be out already, but I can never sleep worth a shit when I drink too much. 

Peeta stands in the doorway to my living room and looks at me intently. His eyes don't wander to the mess the apartment is in, and I'm glad; there is junk strewn everywhere, and plenty of evidence that much of the furniture is now gone. "Let me get you some water," he says, finally, kindly.

I nod. Water sounds perfect. 

I close my eye to Peeta's little puttering sounds moving around my kitchen, opening cabinets, and shutting them again until finally, I hear the faucet come on. And then there's a dip on the couch beside me. I open my eyes to the concerned look on Peeta's face. "Here you go," he says, and I take the glass from him once I've forced my head up, draining the water in one long go.

We remain silent, and the sound of the blood rushing in my ears is almost deafening. One thing I'm sure of, the buzz I had earlier is gone now.

While we remain quiet, I wait for Peeta to tell me he's leaving. I should probably say something to the effect that he can go now, but I don't want to. I don't often ask other people for things. I can take care of myself, but it's a double-edged sword; self-sufficiency can be incredibly lonely. That defense mechanism is probably why Gale and I never worked. I didn't ask him for things he didn't want to give. But tonight I want Peeta here more than I've ever wanted anything. No, wanted probably isn't strong enough. I need him here, and it's the raw hunger of a small child who's afraid to be left alone in the dark. Everything feels so dark right now.

There's a moment where I'm sure he's going to get up, and I hold my breath. I've never begged someone to stay, and I'm not sure if I will tonight, but I may. But I don't have to, because, after a last glance in my direction, Peeta seems to make up his mind. He shifts further back on my couch like he's trying to get comfortable, settling in for the night.

"The remote is on the floor," I tell him, not doing a great job of disguising the relief in my voice.

Peeta flips on my television, and I close my eyes when he rests his hand on my ankle; it's a light touch, the way you'd let a pet or a child know that you are still there.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


"Katniss?" 

Peeta is kneeling beside the couch, one hand on my arm. "I have to go now; I need to go home and get ready for work."

This moment is the one I couldn't face last night, and I still don't want to deal with it now. Peeta's leaving. I'm not fully awake and my head throbs; that would be a good enough excuse for why I can't think of what to say to him now. Later I'll probably be embarrassed and humiliated for leaning on Peeta after the way I treated him so horribly after his accident, but for now, I'm just sad. 

"I got you some more water, and I found a bottle of aspirin in your bathroom."

"Thank you," I croak, sitting up to take them gratefully. 

He hands me two white tablets, and I toss them back with the water. They go roughly down my still-sore throat. I feel like absolute shit, both my body and my heart.

"Do you want my phone number?" Peeta asks as he takes my empty glass away, sounding uncomfortable with the question. He won't look at me.

"Yes," I say, surprised at both the offer and his hesitation, "I would." I can't believe he thinks I don't want to see him again, not after what he did for me last night.

  
  


Peeta lets out a breath like he thinks I would've said no. And then I realize, yes, I can believe he would be unsure of himself with me this morning. My past behavior doesn't speak well of me. Today everything feels different, though. I am not fixed, not by a long shot. I'm still the same fucked-up Katniss from last night, but I feel lighter. A little hopeful for the first time in years. I sit up all the way, and before Peeta can get up from the floor, I wrap my arms around his shoulders. "Thank you for last night," I say, "thank you for being here when I needed you. I'd love to talk to you soon. I've wanted to for years."

When Peeta sits back, his eyes are wet. I use my thumb to wipe a tear away, and I kiss him lightly on the cheek before he stands. 

I lean back and dig my phone out of my pants pocket, programing in the number he recites to me. While he's still here, I send him a text. A smile crosses both of our faces when the buzzing sound comes from his pocket.

I get up and follow him to my door. He hugs me before walking out the door, and for just a minute, I let myself take in his comforting scent. But I don't overthink the tingle his nearness stirs in me. I'm tired, and now isn't the time to think about the way another man smells, not when my husband just moved out of our apartment last night. 

But maybe- maybe one day Peeta and I can try again. Whatever happens with him, we've taken a step in the right direction.

I can live with that.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little "where did Katniss and Peeta end up" chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy :).

Peeta follows me into my new apartment and sets the last of the boxes at my kitchen counter. 

“I guess this is it,” he says conversationally, opening the lid to peek at what’s inside, “I just want to make a mental note of this last, symbolic box,” he teases.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” I tell him, pulling out one of the stools. I’m too tired to joke around with him now. “Sit down for a while, please. I have two working legs, and I”m exhausted.” 

We spent the better part of the weekend moving my things into this new apartment. 

After Gale left, I didn’t want to be in the old place anymore- too many tainted memories and what-ifs still hung on in the air there like the essence of our failed marriage had seeped into the couch cushions and tabletops. 

When Gale and I signed the annulment papers, finalizing our marriage’s end, I knew it was time for a fresh start. My lease on the old apartment was almost up, and after searching a bit, I found this place. The one-bedroom was a no-brainer, located in a refurbished building with new appliances and an on-floor laundry room; it’s smaller than my old apartment but large enough to fit my needs. It’s also a lot closer to my job and Peeta’s place. 

Peeta- we’ve spent the last six months or so getting reacquainted with each other. From the beginning, when all we did was exchange texts or grabbed a coffee before heading to the park to walk the trails there, he’s expressed no expectations of any more from me. I did the same for him. I just wasn’t ready then, and that wouldn’t have been fair to either of us. 

During that time, he was the friend I desperately needed. Before the annulment, I’d fallen into a habit of shutting people out of my life- I realize now that was a result of my long period of depression, and I knew if things with Peeta took off at some point, I wanted the tools to be ready for that. 

With Peeta’s encouragement and a confession that he was also a patient of his, I began seeing Dr. Aurelius, and he, in turn, referred me to a therapist named Annie Cresta. Annie’s been a life-saver; she’s helped me work through a profusion of things; one of the first things she prompted me to do was be honest with Peeta about the past and how I’d treated him.

So Peeta and I talked about the past- a lot. And he’s forgiven me.

These small changes in my life, they’re working. I still struggle some days, but I’m starting to feel good again, like the Katniss I used to be slowly reemerging from the shadows. I've found that I no longer feel guilty about the growing feelings I have for Peeta, which have been creeping up on me, so quietly, I didn't recognize them until the truth hit me right between the eyes. 

So later that night, after he runs home to shower and change, we’re sitting on my couch, eating pizza and watching television, and I don’t second guess the moment when we're smiling at each other, and his eyes drop to my lips. He leans over to meet me, and we kiss during the commercial break. I don’t second guess it a little later when he carries me to my bedroom, where we christen the change in our relationship on the new mattress. A brand new bed for a change in an old relationship, a fresh start free from the past, and its regrets. I'm so glad he's back in my life, and I'm so thankful for second chances.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a line if you're feeling it. I'm endlessnightlock on Tumblr also, if you ever want to look for me there.


End file.
